Ham Sandwich, My Bitch

I'm going to make this ham sandwich my bitch. I've made it carefully with precise proportions of mustard, mayonaise and adequate ham to bread ratio. I cut away the crust and gave them to Zeus, who's not supposed to be inside on a nice day like this, especially when I'm eating. Fuck you, Zeus. Now that I've touched an animal I suppose I'll wash my hands and dry them with a paper towel- its maybe not all that eco-friendly, but it just seems more hygenic then re-using a dubious dish towel. Wait, what was I doing? I'm not even really that hungry- I seldom am since you left. Man, that would be a great dramatic turn if only someone had left and I was sad. The truth is I'll probably eat it and carry a frown across my face the entire time. I've been trying to frown less lately, but it's been difficult, what with having sandwiches I don't like, among other things.

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